The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1887-11-20
THREE AGES OF THANKSGIVING.
RecolIections of the Fashioned Family
Reunions in New England.
ecial to the Indianapous J.urnas.


and trailing gown. he marches in procession up
and down the side streets treating the Puritan
festival as if it were no other than autumn
edition of the Fourth of July.
Thanksgiving has turned to dinner and to
noise.
The old time New England Thanksgiving never
existed outside of New England. and even on its
own territory it has passed through golden and
silver age and entered into of copper.
How far back one has to look to get glimpse
of the silver age and even to peep over the boun-
diaries of the gold depends not on chronology, but
on locality.
1t is curiosity of America that our date lines
run in zigzags 1t isn't 1887 than
limited area of country at once. The Ire sources
of civilization" are supposed to have Strengthened
things out anc to have established certain
simutaneousness of living; but I have seen
within six years a Massachusetts, girl of twenty
who could read Virgil but had never rail
road; and there are northern New Workers too
young to remember Lincolns assassination who
have seen nails hammered out one by one by
the village blacksmith, and used wooden pins in
carpentry wherever it possible to spare the
precious iron.
The golden age of Thanksgiving in some parts
of New England is fifty years back; in others it
is ten or fifteen years gone. 1t depends for the
most part on ones grandfather If he lived to
green old age he brought, if not the farmhouse
festival, at least the village Thanksgiving-a
sort of silver-g gilt variety-down almost to
date.
Grandsir's house-the children knew him by
othername-andt the houses next it illustrated
New England village genealogy. Up at the
head of the street open space. 1t was
there or thereabouts that the little black cottage
had stood in which, back in the pre-Adamite era
according to childish reckoning, had lived the
primeval grandmother. of Orange Irish blood
whose nurse had hid her in bakers oven when
she was baby over in green Erin and the Catholic
raiders had come down upon the fold. Her
nurse had brought her to New England and
there she had found husband, and her children
had lived next door. Their house was gone, too,
and their childrens, out there were three or four
standing YET, cheek by jowl with one another
where Grandsir's father had lived and his father
before him. There the big -chimneyed old
house where Grandsir lived as young man,
when he turned out the primitive bean-pot for
the village on the potters wheel. There was the
grand new house. in which, as a leather mer-
chant with store in Boston, he was passing his
later years.
All the houses, little and big, were full when
Thanksgiving came around, for every member
of an overlooking family came home to spend the
festival. Uncles and aunts began to arrive on
Monday. and the flock of cousins kept increasing
until Wednesday night. They took possession
bling laughter and merriment and they camped
down upon Uncle Eben and Uncle Enoch next
door. It was turbulent. unruly, jolly house
hold that rules of law and order could keep
within bounds.
There was Grandsir himself stout. white
haired. bushy eye-browed, jovia1 benevolence
shining in his smile and in every fold of his
multiplex chin. There Grandma straightas
an arrow with too much stern pride to allow
herself to become bent; slender brighteyed and
with soft folds of ripping gray hair combed down
owe hGr cal Wa a n
up folks and little folks all bent on weeks
revel.
All me. the pies!
How sticky the little fingers got seeding raisins
evening after evening. when all hands turned to
to help in honor of the approaching festival What
orgy of chopping there was! Chopping of
apples. chonping of meat, chopping of raisips,
chopping of suet. chopping of everything chop
pable for the all-devouring !lince pies.
The brick oven! One will never forget it.
Disused the year through, it must be heated
once again, preferred over its modern rivals for
baking the Thanksgiving pies. What sight it
was-the roaring. the curling. the eddying of the
living flames in the black depths. What lot of
oven wood it took to fill it. What fearful joy
there was in feeding the flames.
Grandma lowered proudly over those pies.
Waterford by waiter-load she bore them
triumphantly, foury apron duttering in the air.
to the big hall closet convoy of little folks, ex-
ulting in the trust, bearing lesser loads in her
wake. Thirty, forty, fifty. sixty of them, they
were welcome to freeze solid rocks the winter
through-such of them survived Thanksgiv-
oven on their way to the table.
The joys of that hall closet.
There was the barrel of cranberries, red and
glowing. color feast to the eyes. There were
the turkeys and chickens dozens and scores of
them, beyond childish arithmetic to count, for
Grandsir remembered half the old aunt:es in the
village and every in his employ. There
were the apples, Baldwins, greetings and Rox-
bury russets, and there-ready for more pies
were the great milk pans: of squash, floating
yellow islands in seas of milk.
Pumpkinsl No. It is pumpkin in tradition
and New York, but in Massachusetts. home of
the pumpkins within the memory of the oldest
inhabitant it has always been squash.
am veracious chronicler and say, very en-
phatically squash
1t is curious how much colder it used to be at
Thanksgiving than it is now.
There always ice on the pond and it was
the big family sleigh that carried Grandsir and
his store of provisions when he set out on his
Thanksgiving rounds. 1t treat to go with
him, for the jingle of old Spots bells brought a
dozen rheumatic souls to the windows who
counted their Thanksgiving reminders as
confidently ON the coming of the day.
Thanksgiving morning, when the day did its
duty, clear and sharp. Grandma hustled
off the '.men folks" and as many of the children
could be beguiled into going, to church. The
sermon excellent institution to clear the
coast for that task of all the year. the making
ready the Thanksgiving Dinner With big D.
She rose to the occasion and her heart swelled
within her. 1t was morning for anxiety. but
anxiety overtopped by pride The turkey was
tremendous responsibility, but the turkey had
two cloths to cover it. and it called for nice
mental calculation to decide where each of the
multitude of aunts and uncles and cousins little
and cousins big should sit
At church the minister enjoyed himself. It
was luxury to hear him lay about the heads of
the members of the Legislature and patronize
the President. He always talked politics. 1t
wasn't considered the thing to do it on any other
occasion and he made the most of his chance.
Grandsir handled the carving knife. Grand
ma heaped the plates and beamed. All the boys
chopped wood to work off the effects of the din
ner, once it was eaten, and the girls nibbled
strips of salt cod for the same purpose.
Toward night it clouded in gray and dark till
the sense of family shelter and protection lent
an added charm to the family reunion. All the
uncles discussed the state of the country and
agreed on line of action that once adopted by
the powers that be, would precipitate the mil
lennium. All the aunties talked the new babies
over, and all the cousins cracked nuts and were
allowed small glasses of cider